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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687802">thankful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsteeth/pseuds/hellsteeth'>hellsteeth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cancer Arc, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Cancer Arc (X-Files), Thanksgiving</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:01:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsteeth/pseuds/hellsteeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder spends Thanksgiving with Scully and the lingering effects of her cancer force them both to confront the events of the past few weeks.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>thankful</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Thanksgiving, 1997</b>
</p>
<p>The hallway of Scully’s building is warmer today, feeling almost cozy with the smell of turkey and the muffled chatter of conversation bleeding through each door. Mulder soaks up the bright atmosphere, whistling under his breath as he walks toward Scully’s door.</p>
<p>In lieu of knocking with his hand, lest he drop the bottle of wine and carefully-prepared sweet potato casserole that are balanced in his arms, Mulder taps the bottom of the door with the toe of his shoe a few times.</p>
<p>“Coming!” A harried shout from within responds. A minute later, the door swings open to reveal Scully, hair mussed slightly and cheeks flushed. Mulder takes her in, his eyes shamelessly tracing her form. She’s wearing something new, a cream cable knit sweater and dark jeans that she fills out nicely now that she’s begun to gain weight again. <em>Thank god for remission</em>, he thinks for the thousandth time in the last six weeks.</p>
<p>“Happy Thanksgiving, Scully,” Mulder smiles at her.</p>
<p>“Happy Thanksgiving, Mulder,” she replies, stepping aside so he can enter her apartment. He bends down to plant a casual kiss on her cheek as he passes her. After taking a few steps over the threshold of her apartment, Mulder’s brow furrows and his nostrils flare. A variety of scents invade his nose, most of them welcome, but the acrid smell of burning food taints the expected smell of turkey and stuffing.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Scully asks, taking the casserole out of his arms and placing it on the kitchen counter. Mulder sheds his coat and follows her into the kitchen, peering at the pots and pans on the stove. </p>
<p>“Scully, is something burning?”</p>
<p>She looks at him in confusion, clearly nonplussed by the sharp smell that’s becoming more overpowering by the second.</p>
<p>“I don’t think so,”</p>
<p>Mulder peers in the oven and coughs as a fresh wave of hot air stings his eyes and nose. He grabs a potholder and reaches toward the source, pulling out a pan of blackened dinner rolls. Scully frowns and inspects them as if she’s about to conduct an autopsy on them.</p>
<p>“Whoops,” she mutters under her breath, taking the potholders and pan from Mulder and unceremoniously tossing the ruined food into the trash. Mulder raises an eyebrow at her but says nothing, choosing to search for the bottle opener and uncork the wine he’d brought.</p>
<p>“What time is your mom getting here? I thought she was going to stay over last night,” He asks, spinning the bottling in place while holding the corkscrew steady with his other hand. </p>
<p>Scully sighs and checks on the various concoctions bubbling away on the stovetop, stirring occasionally. Mulder has always been of the opinion that cooking is more of an art than a science, but from Scully’s mechanical stirring and the critical way she analyzes the progress of each dish, she could be dropped in the middle of a chemistry lab right now and fit in perfectly.</p>
<p>“That was the plan,” She says slowly, annoyance seeping into her tone, “But her sister decided to surprise her with a plane ticket to visit her out in Illinois a few days ago,” Scully sighs and leans back against the counter, pulling down two wine glasses. “Sorry, I should’ve told you it would just be us.”</p>
<p>Mulder shrugs and smiles, pouring them each a glass of wine. “That’s alright, but I am going to steal a good portion of the leftovers. I doubt the two of us can eat all this food,”</p>
<p>Scully laughs and nods, bringing a spoonful of gravy to her lips for a taste test. After a moment of serious pondering, she shakes her head and adds a few generous pinches of salt and pepper. “Please take as much as you want, god knows I won’t be able to finish even half of it on my own.”</p>
<p>He knows that this is true from months of gently coaxing weak tea and unbuttered toast into her while on the road only to watch her turn even paler and hack it up later. The past month and a half of her remission has seemed to help, but Mulder still notices her turning down lunch at work most days.</p>
<p>“How much longer on the bird?” He asks, taking a sip from his glass of wine and leaning against the counter next to her.</p>
<p>“Probably another forty-five minutes,” she answers. “The sides should be ready around then, too,”</p>
<p>“Is there anything I can do to help?”</p>
<p>Scully shakes her head and smirks. “You got here just in time, everything is prepped and just needs to cook, so you’re off the hook. Maybe you can mash the potatoes by hand for me in a little bit.” She sits at the table and pulls a chair out for him, which he accepts.</p>
<p>“Deal,” He winks.</p>
<p>As they chat and occasionally stir various pans of food, both of their stomachs start to growl. Mulder makes good on his word and mashes the potatoes, dipping his finger in the pot every so often to sneak a taste. Scully handles the green bean casserole and the stuffing. They work in companionable silence with Christmas music on the radio in the background until Mulder’s attention is grabbed by the aggressive sound of a salt shaker behind him. He turns to find Scully frowning and adding various seasonings to the food. A bit of garlic powder, a bit of salt, a highly questionable amount of pepper.</p>
<p>Before Mulder can ask Scully why she’s assaulting the already-cooked side dishes, she pulls the turkey out of the oven and grins at the sight of the popped, bright red timer sticking out of the bird. Scully sets the turkey down on the counter and pulls an electric carver out of a low drawer.</p>
<p>“Why does this remind me of you with your bone saw?” Mulder muses aloud.</p>
<p>She snorts. “Once you’ve dissected one species, the others aren’t so difficult,”</p>
<p>The dining table is in the kitchen so there’s no need to transport the food, but Mulder busies himself with clearing the table of debris and setting out Scully’s nice plates and silverware while she carves the turkey with the practiced hand of a person that slices and dices cadavers for a living. She makes quick work of it and soon they are seated at the table with plates of warm food and full glasses of wine. His fingers trace the top of Scully’s warm hand as she mutters a prayer and crosses herself.</p>
<p>Finally, it’s time to eat.</p>
<p>“So should we go around the table and say what we’re thankful for?” Mulder asks as they both dig in. Scully chews thoughtfully and adds a few shakes of salt to her mashed potatoes.</p>
<p>“If you want, but you first.”</p>
<p>His first forkful of food stills on its path to his open mouth, but Mulder sets it down and smiles at her.</p>
<p>“I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m thankful for.” He looks into Scully’s eyes and wonders if the blue there glistens a bit more than usual.</p>
<p>“Me too,” She swallows and blushes. They share a heavy look, weary but content from the events of the past month. Mulder finally shovels food into his mouth and pauses, tongue curling on impact. He must have a weird look on his face because Scully frowns and sets down her fork.</p>
<p>“What’s the matter? It’s not cold, is it?”</p>
<p>At the moment, Mulder wouldn’t be able to tell her what temperature the food is. His entire mouth is overwhelmed, the bitter food causing saliva to coat the inside of his cheeks. He swallows without chewing and stares at Scully in confusion. The food is, quite frankly, inedible. The flavors are all wrong, bitter and overcooked. She’d eaten an entire serving of the green bean casserole, the dish in question, without a single flinch. Hell, she’d even added <em>more</em> salt to it. Is his mouth malfunctioning?</p>
<p>Mulder shakes his head and takes a sip of wine, which blessedly washes away the taste of the food.</p>
<p>“No, uh, it’s not cold,” He says. Scully raises an eyebrow at him but goes back to eating, looking perfectly content and unbothered. Mulder squints at his plate as if it’s done something to offend him before taking an experimental bite of the stuffing, drizzled with gravy. This bite is as bad as the last, oversalted and overpeppered. He didn’t even know it was <em>possible</em> to add too much pepper to gravy until this very moment. The food is washed down his throat with a generous gulp of wine.</p>
<p>Luckily, the turkey is still edible, so he eats it dry along with the sweet potatoes he’d brought and avoids the other foods on his plate. Scully chats with him as they eat, seemingly unaware of how disgusting the food that she’s eating truly is. They discuss the case that they’d opened right before the holiday and how Scully’s brother and his wife are getting on in San Diego. Apparently, Scully is going to be an aunt. She smiles tersely as she tells him this, the recent news of her infertility still raw.</p>
<p>When Scully’s had her fill, she finally notices the way Mulder is taking tiny bites and surreptitiously spitting them out into his napkin. He’s swallowed as much of it as he could, but his stomach has done absolutely nothing to deserve such abuse and he couldn’t justify actually eating the food any longer. Holding it in his mouth is an Olympic-level task in and of itself.</p>
<p>“Are you feeling alright, Mulder?” She asks, standing to set her plate in the sink. “You’ve barely touched your food.”</p>
<p>He nods, unsure of how to proceed when they clearly have such different opinions on the meal. This doesn’t make any sense. She’d had him over for dinner before, cooked for him before, and it had all been delicious.</p>
<p>Mulder’s eye catches sight of the burnt rolls from earlier, still sitting in the trash, and the pieces of this mystery slide into place.</p>
<p>“I feel fine, Scully,” He begins awkwardly.</p>
<p>“But?” She says, sensing his hesitation.</p>
<p>He shrugs. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.” His stomach picks this moment to growl loudly and Scully huffs in frustration and puts a hand on her hip.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna call bull on that. Tell me what’s wrong.”</p>
<p>Mulder sighs and helps her clear the table, hoping a task will help him avoid eye contact. “Did your uh, chemo and radiation treatments happen to affect your sense of smell?” Hands laden with plates and utensils, he risks a glance at Scully. She doesn’t look upset but is wearing the same confused frown that makes an appearance whenever she runs out of rebuttals for his theories at work.</p>
<p>“Maybe a little, the radiation was pretty aggressive when they were trying to stop the tumor from metastasizing, why?”</p>
<p>Mulder, who had been hoping that Scully would catch his drift without him having to insult her cooking directly, sets the plates down on the counter and runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Well, they say a sense of smell makes up most of a person’s sense of taste and,” he pats her shoulder, “Scully, I think that’s what happened here. The food was...over-seasoned,” When Scully fails to reply, he continues. “But that’s okay! Because you cooked it and it seemed like you enjoyed it, which is all I really care about, so it’s not a big deal, nothing to be embarrassed over-”</p>
<p>Scully shrugs his hand off her shoulder and blinks rapidly. “Excuse me,” she mutters, making a beeline out of the kitchen. Mulder hears the bathroom door slam down the hallway, followed by the sound of a running tap.</p>
<p>Mulder kicks himself mentally for his thoughtlessness, convinced that he should have forced the rest of his food down his throat. It’s bad enough that Scully’s cancer had caused her clothes to hang off of her and her hair to thin among more gruesome symptoms, she doesn’t need to be criticized for her cooking when losing her sense of smell isn’t remotely her fault.</p>
<p>He decides to give her a few minutes of space, something that she’d obviously been craving when she’d stormed from the room. He focuses on washing the dishes, an eye on the clock. If she doesn’t come back in a few minutes, he’ll check on her.</p>
<p>When the pots and pans have been dried and put away without a reappearance from Scully, Mulder starts to worry. He walks toward the bathroom lightly, listening for sounds from within. The only sound in the hiss of running water from the sink so he knocks at the door gently.</p>
<p>“Scully, you okay in there?”</p>
<p>The sound of the tap ceases but the door remains closed.</p>
<p>“I’m fine. I just need a minute,” Her voice echoes from inside the bathroom.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Mulder says reluctantly. “I just want to say that I really am sorry for critiquing your cooking. I was an ass back there.”</p>
<p>After a moment, the door opens and he is greeted with an unreadable Scully. Her cheeks are pink, but it’s hard to tell whether she’s angry with him.</p>
<p>“That’s not why I’m upset,” she sighs. “You weren’t being an ass, you were being honest.” Scully shuts off the bathroom light and walks toward the living room. Mulder follows and they both sit on the couch with a foot of space between them.</p>
<p>Scully draws her feet up underneath her and sits on them, clearly uncomfortable. Her fingers play with a loose string on a throw pillow as she continues. “I’m just...embarrassed. I guess,”</p>
<p>Mulder frowns and cocks his head in confusion. “What do you have to be embarrassed about?”</p>
<p>Scully sighs. “I feel like an idiot, Mulder. I spent all day cooking a meal that’s inedible and I had no idea.” Before Mulder can interject, she continues sharply. “And what’s worse is that you were just going to let me think that everything was fine, you just sat there choking it down!” Mulder takes her hands in his, concerned by the heavy and choked tone her voice is adopting.</p>
<p>“That’s not true! I also spit some of it out into my napkin,” he says, smiling lightly, desperate to ease the tension and make Scully laugh. However, his plan goes awry and something in his chest shatters when Scully dissolves into tears. A mix of anger and mortification dances across her features as she sniffs, a tear escaping her left eye. Mulder’s eyes widen in alarm and he draws her into his arms quickly, running a hand through her hair and shushing her. He feels terrible, even guiltier than before.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, shh, everything<em> is</em> fine Scully, it’s not your fault that the radiation affected the way you taste things.”</p>
<p>Scully swipes under her eyes frantically and takes a shuddering breath.</p>
<p>“Maybe that’s true, but I’ve been trying my damn best to get my normal life back over the past month, and you know how much I hate it when people walk on eggshells around me,” She glances down to the way he is holding her, fingers barely touching her arm. Mulder shifts his weight guiltily. “I feel like my recovery has been like taking two step forward and one step back. Every time I think I’ve moved on, another problem pops up to remind me of what happened to me this year,” She rubs at the corner of her eye, smearing her mascara a little. “I gained ten pounds.”</p>
<p>He smiles supportively. “That’s great!”</p>
<p>“And then I lost seven of them.”</p>
<p>Mulder’s smile deflates. “Oh...less great. But it’s still progress.”</p>
<p>She shrugs, no longer crying but making no move to escape his arms. “And I was finally starting to eat regular meals again, but now I know that my sense of taste is even more screwed up than I’d initially thought,” She shakes her head. “I just can’t get out from under the shadow of what’s happened to me.”</p>
<p>Mulder rubs her back, frowning at the disappointed and faraway look in Scully’s eyes. “It’s only been a month and a half since you went into remission, Scully, these things take time,” He reminds her gently. “Nobody is expecting you to go back to normal overnight, and you shouldn’t hold yourself to that standard, either.”</p>
<p>Scully leans against his side lightly. “I know.” She mutters in a small, disappointed voice. Her head comes to rest on his shoulder and Mulder holds her a little tighter, letting the other one fall to his lap so he is simply wrapping an arm around her shoulders instead of giving her an awkward side hug. “I guess it was too much to expect, I’m just overeager.”</p>
<p>Mulder, feeling bold and eager in his quest to make Scully feel better, leans down to brush a kiss against her soft temple. “Well, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ve got unmatched determination,” he says softly. “Give it time, Scully, things will go back to normal. And until then, nobody is going to think less of you for adjusting to what’s happened, least of all me.” He plants another kiss in her hair, smiling at the scent of her shampoo. “You don’t have to worry about what I think, because I will never look at you any differently,”</p>
<p>Scully’s eyes flutter closed as she processes his words. Slowly, she nods and looks at him with careful, calculating eyes. “I'll make you a deal.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“I’ll try to lower my guard if you stop acting like I’m made of glass. You need to tell me if my cooking is horrible, Mulder. How else will I learn?” She smiles wryly.</p>
<p>Mulder considers this, knowing he has been more careful with her over the last month than usual. Seeing the woman you love weak and dying in the hospital has that effect on a man. But Scully is right, as usual.</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>She turns to look him in the eye and nods with finality before standing.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” He asks.</p>
<p>“Ordering a pizza,” she replies. “I may be full, but soon I’m going to have to shout over the sound of your stomach.”</p>
<p>She’s right. Tendrils of hunger coil in Mulder’s stomach and travel up to his brain, resulting in an ache behind his forehead that occurs whenever his blood sugar gets low.</p>
<p>“At least let me order it and pay for it,” He says, holding out his hand for the phone. Scully relents and hands him the landline before walking into the kitchen to assess the amount of cleaning up that still needs to be done. Satisfied with Mulder’s efforts, she wipes down the countertops and drains the dishwater from the sink while he orders a large pepperoni pizza for them both. It arrives twenty minutes later and he tips the delivery driver generously.</p>
<p>They watch the news in comfortable silence as Mulder eats, reruns of the parade earlier that day painting the room in light colors. Mulder sets his empty plate on the coffee table and looks sideways at Scully. Her fingers play with the hem of her sweater distractedly and there is a faint blush to her cheeks from the wine. She looks utterly <em>alive</em>. His heart swells and he clears his throat, emboldened by the amount they’ve already shared tonight.</p>
<p>“I meant what I said earlier, you know.”</p>
<p>She arches an eyebrow playfully. “About the food being gross? Yeah, I believed you the first time.”</p>
<p>He shakes his head adamantly. “About what I’m thankful for,” His hand comes to rest on her knee gently. “I really don’t care about what the food tastes like, Scully, I’m just beyond grateful that you’re around to share it with me.”</p>
<p>“Careful Mulder, you’re starting to sound like all of these tv commercials,” she warns jokingly, although her rapid blinking belies the effect that his words have on her.</p>
<p>“I’m serious, Scully,” he whispers.</p>
<p>Scully, surprising him, scoots closer and envelops him in a hug. “Mulder I…” Her voice trails off into his hair. Mulder rubs her back and inhales the warm scent of her, appreciates the weight of her in his arms. He wishes he could somehow show this exact moment to himself a month and a half ago when he’d sobbed desperately at her bedside, clinging her to as if his touch alone would ground her to earth. In that moment it had felt like the world was collapsing around him, but things feel solid and secure now. Scully’s survival had knocked everything in the universe back into its rightful place.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, I know,” He feels like he really does. They’ve always shared a nearly supernatural connection, but after a day of constant miscommunication, he feels like they currently inhabit one mind.</p>
<p>Scully shakes her head and whispers three words into his neck, so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear them. But he does and holds her closer. When he whispers them back, she lets out a sob of relief, lips grazing the skin above his shoulder blade. One of his hands cups her cheek as her face travels upward to meet his, the soft skin of their lips connecting. Scully exhales into his mouth, her tongue tracing the outline of Mulder’s lips before mingling with his own.</p>
<p>This moment feels both monumental and as natural as breathing. The desperation that had pulled them both closer into each other’s orbits before Scully’s remission had gone unresolved, leaving a lingering awkwardness at the revelation of just how much they needed one another. Now that the front of coyness has been discarded, Mulder gives himself over to Scully entirely, kissing her deeply. She responds in kind, crawling onto his lap and working her hands into his hair enthusiastically.</p>
<p>“I love you,” she says with determination, kissing the corner of his mouth and then his cheek. Mulder beams at her.</p>
<p>“I love you too.” His hands encircle her waist, thumbs rubbing the sides of her ribcage until she giggles and squirms. Mulder files away that fact that she’s ticklish for later.</p>
<p>They sit and regard each other with smiles on their faces for a minute, comfortable in the bubble of closeness that’s formed around them. Scully traces Mulder’s jaw with her finger lightly before cupping it in her hand and trailing her thumb over his lips.</p>
<p>“It’s getting late,” she begins.</p>
<p>“That it is,” he smiles coyly at her.</p>
<p>“I think you’d better stay.”</p>
<p>“If you say so.”</p>
<p>She does, and even past midnight he continues to reflect on what he’s thankful for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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